


Fascinating

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Other Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-08
Updated: 2006-03-08
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8085940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Harper seeks help on the Enterprise from Dr. Phlox. Crossover, Andromeda. Phlox/m. (10/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: A while back there was a "Harper has a rash" challenge posted on the squidge list and it is that challenge that I attempted to address with this story. It also gave me a chance to attempt a new crossover pairingâ€”Harper and Dr. Phlox from ENTERPRISE. While there is general lusting and a lot of trashy/slashy thoughts, so I think in AU terms that it barely rates an R. I thank Julia for helping with the pacing, motivation, and general nits of this story.  


* * *

"Whatya think it is, doc?" Seamus Harper asked in a worried tone. "I know it's not Triangulum Measles, 'cause Dylan had nanobots that cleared them right up. Doesn't seem possible, but this itches even more." He crossed his arms, grabbed the bottom of his orange sweatshirt and pulled it off over his head.

"That's the problem with you humans." The scowl wrinkled the doctor's Denobulan forehead making it look a lot like a scorecard for a game of Martian Rummy. "You're always too eager to turn to some form of external medical help."

"Exactly why I came to you. You're the doctor. Help me." His loose, taupe pants had dropped to his ankles revealing boxers with representations of planets the doctor did not recognize.

"So you chose me. While you probably realize I have medical background and degrees in many different areas, I primarily use a seeking a holistic approach to medicine, finding things within the person to help him facilitate his own cure."

"I don't freakin' care if the cure comes from WITHIN a black hole as long as I stop the itchin." Harper continued, as he ran his fingernails across a patch of rough red skin on his right forearm.

The doctor grabbed the young man's hand and held it in his. Harper was unprepared for the feeling that moved quietly through his body, one of relaxation and strangely enough sexual excitement. The doctor had large handsâ€”he was a large man; but his hands were extremely soft and gentle in their touch. Harper liked the way they felt.

"Relax young man, try a whiff of this." The doctor opened a small bottle and held it under his nose. It smelled a little like that Satrina babe, which worried Harper slightly, until the scent caused him to relax.

"Now take off the boxers and jump up here." He said as he indicating the examination table.

Harper made a face.

"The rash is there, too, right?"

"It's everywhere. Everywhere." He was most thankful the doctor turned his back and seemed to feed something to a small animal in a cage, then go and wash his hands again. When he returned, Harper was naked, lying on his stomach, considering himself fortunate that, even though difficult to reach, most of his rash was on his back and buttocks.

* * *

It really didn't look too serious. Dr. Phlox was certain that an antihistamine ointment, removal of the antagonistic substance and general relaxation techniques would be enough to send the young man on his way, cured of his itching. Perhaps some antibiotics to ward off infections and some general vitamins to build up his immune system would also indicated for his treatment. He thought he understood the reasoning behind the veil of secrecy Captain Archer had placed around the treatment of the young man who had arrived on the Enterprise via a type of transport vehicle none of the crew members had ever seen before. It was his job as ship's doctor to treat the young man and send him on his way; but he was naturally curious.

He tapped along the patient's spine and took a closer look at of one of the eruptions, scraping it with a wooden stick, placing the tissue on a slide, and examining it under a microscope. He came back and dabbed a little liquid on the larger, more easily scratched and thus more irritated, sores on his back. He rested one hand on Harper's back and while he ran the fingers of his other hand gently along the contours of the young man's buttocks.

"Watcha doin', doc?"

"Sorry, just thinking. I haven't seen these types of lesions for a while."

"So you know what it is. Is it serious?"

"Don't think so, painful yes, serious...I don't think so."

"Need you to get me patched up and on my way. It's not in either of our best interests to have me here."

"I think I can do that, Mr. Harper."

"Good."

"Excellent." The doctor had found a small tuft of hair on the engineer's leg and slowly twisted it between his fingers.

* * *

Harper wasn't sure what was more difficult, not scratching the sores that covered his body or trying to remember just how much information he could relay to the doctor who was treating him.

Harper had begun to experience the itching and swelling about a week ago after Trance had found a trunk of old clothing in a shop on Pauper's Drift. Although the white shiny boots, short silver skirt and tight stretchy red top had looked extremely attractive on Trance, Harper kept wishing that they had found the clothing when she was purple with the tail. The new Trance was still hot, but the old one was a lot more fun. Harper had decided to try out a light green suit with wide legged pants and tightly tailored jacket with a thin, multicolored print shirt underneath. Clunky thick soled shoes and a wide-brimmed white hat set off the outfit. He and Trance had had a good-time visiting a few bars and dance clubs, until he started to itch.

Nothing she had tried had helped. She had exhausted her supply of general nanobots as he continued to break out in more and more sores. A long soak in the hot tub had aggravated not only his condition but also his fellow crewmembers who were now banned from the tub until the source of the condition was diagnosed and Harper sanitized it.

Nothing annoys Captain Dylan Hunt like a problem he cannot solve, and somehow the captain had become convinced that the answer to his engineer's medical problems did not lie in anything presently availableâ€”even with Andromeda's vast access to information. He was convinced that the answer lay somewhere in the time period when the clothing was created, and that if they couldn't find references in the system's databases, then Harper might have to travel back in time to seek medical help.

The problem was even more complicated than that. The time movement aspect of the slip stream was only roughly mapped and transfers could only be made to ships actually engaged in slip stream navigation. Harper would suddenly appear somewhere without logical explanation. Dylan had to search early records to find a ship most likely to have the necessary elements: a competent doctor, a crew that would not panic when Harper appeared, and records going back to the time that those god-awful clothes were in fashion.

It still took a lot of trust. Harper had to be careful what he revealed about his presence and more importantly about the future history of the universe. One slip and everything might be changed, all for a scratchy butt.

* * *

"Well it could be one of several things. I'm going to have to take a medical history, and maybe do some tests."

"What kind of medical history?"

"Sexual history?"

"Can't you just do the tests?" Harper was a little embarrassed. He didn't like to talk about his sexual activities with someone with whom he was not involved even if he was a doctor.

"Some of the possibilities are only able to be diagnosed by tests which might be much more embarrassing than telling me about your sexual activities. I've been around Mr. Harper, seen a lot, I doubt if anything you say is going to shock me."

"Oh, I hate those tests. I was infested with Magog eggs once, that was both painful and embarrassing."

"So Magogs really do?"

"Both ends. Believe me I thought there was nothing worse that a stinky, hairy magog sticking his slong up my keister, until he jammed it down my throat. At least when he was behind me, I didn't have to look at him." Harper drew his arms around his head and buried his face into them, as if covering his face could hide the thoughts.

"When was that?"

"Almost two years now. You don't think this is related to that?"

"No, pretty sure it isn't. Can you continue with your sexual history?"

"Lost my virginity when I was thirteen. Girl was sixteen and wanted to teach me..."

"Don't think we have to go back that far, Mr. Harper. I am more interested in your sexual history for the past three months or so. . . to determine if you have picked up a sexually transmitted virus of some sort. You have had sexual partners during this period?"

"You are freakin' right I have." Harper said with pride. "Rommie. But she's an A/I so I don't think she carries virusesâ€”unless they are the computer type. Furthermore, she just gave me a blow-job one night so she could be sure she hadn't lost her touchâ€”tasteâ€”whatever you call a babe's skill at whomping down on it. I told her it was like riding a bike, but she was all nervous because she this hot date with Ryan and she didn't want him to know she hadn't been doing it with Dylan."

"A/I?" Harper had the feeling he had lost the good doctor somewhere along the line.

"Artificial Intelligence. You know, like a borg."

"Your borgs have sex? With each other?"

"Well, Rommie's not your typical run-of-the-mill borg. . . she's hot." Suddenly Harper realized that the borgs in this man's universe were not created sentient beings but merely machines that performed programmed tasks. Perhaps he had gone too far in discussing Rommie. At least he hadn't told him that she was the avatar of his ship. "I don't think I could have gotten anything from Rommie. Do you?"

"This doesn't look like a computer virus, if that's what you are implying."

"Well then there was Trance. Mostly now we just kiss and cuddle, but every once in a while she lets me crawl on her and do the nasty. She doesn't like it as much as purple trance did. Now that was a hot babe in the sack."

"And this female is of what species, Mr. Harper."

"Darned if I know. She used to be purple, with a tail, but now...

"Oh them, they're pretty harmless. I don't think. . ."

"So what is she, Doc."

"Harmless, my friend, harmless."

* * *

Phlox wondered how far he could press this line of questioning. There was a good chance that it had absolutely nothing to do with the young man's dermatological problems. Still if Harper was from the future, as he was most certain that he was; there was much that could be learned from their conversations. He realized of course that Harper had probably been thoroughly instructed to not reveal items about the future. Phlox figured that anything he could ask that might be related to the medical condition was fair game. He found the whole thing particularly fascinating.

Who was he trying to kid, he found Seamus Z. Harper fascinating. He was first attracted to his bright blue eyes, spiky blond hair, and bottomless dimples, but when he removed his clothing and revealed his slender, pale body the doctor felt longings that had been repressed on the Enterprise. He longed for his voluptuous wives, and even his fellow husbands, some of which were thin and supple like the young man who lay before him.

"Continue. Anyone else Mr. Harper."

"Ryan. I had sex with Ryan last week."

"But didn't you say that Rommie was going out on a date with Ryan, and needed practice with. . ." The doctor stopped and thought about what he had said, probably much too casually. "I'm sorry Mr. Harper. It really wasn't a very proper thing for me to say. I have to be more tolerant in my understanding of human's sexual proclivities. Although I have to admit that the crew of your ship seems to be engaging in a lot more sexual activity that that of our vessel. Never mind my editorializing, however, and tell me about this Ryan."

"He's an A/I, too."

"Than you probably are safe. Have you been involved with any human men?"

"Human, how about Nietzschean?"

"Nietzschean? I am familiar with the philosophy, but not..." The doctor looked more than puzzled.

Never mind, he's just a human who's had a little genetic engineering. I've been involved with one of my crewmembers, Tyr Anasazi. We do the horizontal mamba with some degree of regularity."

"Does Mr. Anasazi have a number of sexual partners, besides you?"

"Right now just his wives."

"Wives I understand, Mr. Harper. I have three myself. I take it they are all healthy."

"Except when they freakin' die. But yes, the ones alive are doing well."

"Anyone else. Male or female?"

"Not in the last few weeks, but that Reed guy on your crew looks pretty shagable, not to mention that Vulcan babe."

* * *

The young man seemed regard both his sexual activity and his bisexuality with a greater degree of comfort than had been displayed by the crewmembers of the Enterprise. Phlox had long wondered if the building sexual tension of his ship was caused by the unknown aspects of early space exploration or the personalities of the crew that had been selected, but he did have to agree with Harper's observations about Reed and T'Pal.

He finished the sexual history without further comment. He continued to examine the young engineer's body concentrating for a great deal of time at the very sensitive skin around his data port. Harper shuddered as his fingers touched the skin and rubbed some soothing ointment around the connection.

"Careful there doc, you might short something out."

"This if fine, Mr. Harper, it actually enhances the quality of electrical response. That's what it's there for, isn't it. Some sort of electrical..." He casually rubbed the cream towards Harper's ear and hairline.

"It's a data port. Allows me to jack into..."

"I'm familiar with them. They're just not to commonly used on humans." The doctor continued to examine and stroke with his soft, firm fingers. "I would suggest that perhaps you might want to have the external adapter changed on this. There may be some sort of chemical reaction caused by impurities in the metal. . . "

"It was all I could afford. It has served me well. Elevated my 185 I.Q. to that of almost infinity."

"So you're smart enough to figure out a way to get your captain to request one made from a non-reactive compound. Stainless steel or plastic."

"I'll try. Do you think that is the problem?"

"Not entirely, but it might be aggravating it. Some of it may be tension, too. What do you do to relax?"

"Have sex with Tyr and drink Sparky Cola."

"I would imagine that both of those are much more stimulating than they are relaxing."

"It's what I like, Doc."

"Does that Nietzschean hunk ever give you massages. They are very good at releasing tension."

"Him? Me? Sorry. I'm the one who is very good at releasing HIS tension." Harper gave the doctor a broad smile.

"You might suggest he try it, for your sanity, and your skin. Now roll over."

"On my back?"

"Unless you know another way I can examine your heart, lungs and genitals Mr. Harper."

"It's just..."

"Roll over." The doctor gave the engineer a slight pat on the thigh; his invitingly shaped buttocks looked too red and sore to touch.

"Fascinating, Mr. Harper." The doctor said calmly even though he was now confronted with the young engineer's erect penis. He allowed a faint smile erupt. "I wasn't expecting. . . "

"Like, hell, you ask me all those sexy questions and can't keep your hands off the Harper, what do you freaking expect."

"I am extremely sorry. I did not mean, and as a doctor, even if I did...it would be most improper."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I thought for a moment you were going to ask for a sperm sample."

"That was one of the tests I could have done in lieu of your sexual history, now aren't you glad we talked."

"Maybe. . . Maybe not."

* * *

Harper felt foolish as he put his clothing back on. Foolish and itchy. Why had he gotten all turned-on thinking about the big Denobulan doctor? It was damned embarrassing. Dr. Phlox had gone off somewhere, leaving him alone in the sick-bay that contained creatures and plants that would make Trance very, very jealous. Seeking relief, he rubbed his back against the edge of one of the animal cages in the doctor's laboratory and smiled when he saw the white rabbit contained inside.

"Hi, big guy. What's it like here on this ship? Does the big doctor feed you well?" He looked around for some food pellets to feed the small rabbit, dumped a few in his hand, opened the cage door, and allowed the animal to eat it from his hand. He ran his hand across the rabbit's back, amazed at the softness of his fur.

"You are too cute. Too freakin' cute. The chicks would go crazy big time for you."

Harper grabbed the rabbit by the scruff of the neck and supported his hind legs with the other hand. "How'd you like to spend some quality time with Seamus Z. Harper? Come over and sit on my lap for a while."

Maybe the doctor was right about relaxation coming from inside. He stroked the rabbit and though of softness and women and Trance and continued petting. The cute little bunny seemed content to just sit and let Harper touch him, much the way he had felt when the Denobulan doctor had been touching him. He hoped the rabbit wasn't getting sexually excited.

The rash seemed to be moving to the tops of his thighs. He lifted the rabbit to his shoulder, holding it with one hand, and scratched away. "No Harper, you cannot drop your pants to get a better scratch. What if the Doctor walked in and saw you that way. Pet the rabbit, try to relax, it's all you can do now."

Now his shoulder was itching. Bad. He looked down at his hand; it was red and blistered. In shock he dropped the rabbit on the floor and it hopped away behind his cage. He was torn between tearing off his clothes and itching away, or dropping on his knees to try to recapture the escaped animal. "Here bunny, here bunny. Come to Harper." He needed some more food. He had to get the rabbit back in the cage before Dr. Phlox got back.

He didn't. The doctor found him on his hands and knees crawling after the escaped animal.

"Normally, Mr. Harper, I would find the sight of a young man like yourself, on his hands and knees quite stimulating."

"He didn't really say that," Harper thought. "Your rabbit friend has run away, after he has made this freakin' rash even worse."

"Oh, Edward, come here." The Doctor reached down and grabbed his white lapin. "I was just about to ask you Mr. Harper about your experiences with rabbits."

Harper stood and looked at the doctor and his small white friend. A puzzled and somewhat sheepish look crossed his face.

"Not that kind of experience, Mr. Harper, I was just wondering if you had come in contact with any rabbits in the past several weeks."

"No, not really. I think this guy may be the first live rabbit I've ever met. Didn't have them on Earth...

"You didn't. . . where on earth might that be?"

"Boston." He hesitated to say more.

"Well that explains it. From what I hear the wharf rats eat them." The doctor's face was illuminated with a huge grin.

"Probably." Harper was relieved he didn't have to explain more. His Boston was probably nothing like the Boston the doctor knew. Hell, they didn't even have wharf rats anymore.

"Honestly though, from the tests I ran, you are quite allergic to rabbit fur."

"From the test I did, I would certainly agree." Harper held his blistered hand up for the doctor to see.

"Got to do something about that Mr. Harper, before it spreads to parts of your body where itching would be even more painful. Fortunately I have an ointment that probably will do the trick, but relaxation is also very important. But we have to figure out the source of the lesions that you had when you arrived here. Where did you come in contact with rabbits?"

"Guess that means I have to strip again and you get to run your hands all over Seamus Z. Harper. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I remind you again of the doctor/patient relationship, but Mr. Harper if when you are cured, perhaps we might..."

"Sounds fine to me Doc. As long as you don't bring your friend Edward."

Harper was pleased that he was able to stifle the reactions his body so wanted to have to the Doctor's large hands rubbing the pleasant smelling ointment on his body. This was relaxation. He wondered if Tyr could do that to him. Perhaps he should take some of the ointment home with him.

"Normally I would recommend the inhalation of negative ions, but don't try to produce them by rubbing a hard rubber rod with fur, Mr. Harper."

"Watch what you are saying about my rod." They both laughed.

"I'll have some new clothing sent down for you, Mr. Harper. I am afraid, after your dalliance with Edward here, the clothes you were wearing are probably going to have to be discarded. Rabbit dander is extremely difficult to remove from clothing."

"Clothing, freaking clothing. Did they ever use rabbit for clothing?"

"Sometimes it's used for collars, cuffs and muffs for little girl's dress up clothing. Barbaric to use such a gentle animal in that way."

Harper kept his mouth shut about the fact that one night Dylan, Tyr and Rev. Bem had sat around discussing eating rabbits. Rev considered them a welcome break from salmon, Dylan extolled roasting them on a stick over an open fire, and Tyr preferred them with chocolate mole sauce.

"Nah, I haven't been near any little girls latelyâ€”unless you count Trance...wait a minute. . . I got this suit at Pauper's Drift a few weeks back. It was sort of fuzzy and hairy."

"That might have been the culprit. There was a time when rabbit fur was blended into some knit fabrics to give texture."

"This suit had texture all right. Chicks couldn't keep their hands off me. Too bad it was contaminated."

"What color was it, Mr. Harper?"

"Color, what freaking difference does color make? It was lime green, if you have to know."

The doctor smiled.

"What now?"

"I was just thinking, a blond like you would look very attractive in lime green."

* * *

_A Week Later_

The ointment had stopped the itching allowing the nanobots to complete the healing of Harper's skin. He was back to his job on the Andromeda tinkering with machinery, bugging Dylan and Beka, teasing Rommie and Trance, and drooling after Tyr. He resisted trying on the green suit one more time, just to see if the doctor was right about the color, and had Trance seal it in a plastic storage bag for them to resell on their next excursion to Pauper's Drift. He would have to learn to read fabric content labels more carefully.

Dylan seemed satisfied that Harper had done nothing that would have destroyed the time connection between that of the Enterprise and the current time, for which he awarded Harper another medal. Harper, however, often found himself alone in his bed, his hand gently stroking his cock, thinking about a large Denobulan gentleman who found young men in lime green, on their hands and knees, extremely fascinating. The strange thing about such sessions was that they often ended him becoming extremely relaxed and falling asleep before his sexual tension was released. Still Andromeda noticed, as she checked during the sleep cycle, Harper never stopped smiling.

Dr. Phlox on the other hand kept looking at his younger human male crewmembers and remembering his strange patient. He was amazed with the poise the young man had handled the secrets that he as his doctor could discern and never share with his own crewmembers. Sometimes his powers of observation brought about a sadness in knowing that the future would not be as grand as those of this generation hoped it would be. Yet knowing that humans like Harper were in there fighting gave him some degree of hope. He cursed the ancient Greeks and their affirmations for physicians' actions yet found comfort in the fact that such enforced detachment would prevent further pain. Still memories of the young man retained lofted place on the hierarchy of his relaxation techniques.


End file.
